Relativity
by AudioAesthetic
Summary: Theodore Nott gen. Because the Devil never tells his side of the story. AN: This is what happened to my other Nott-centric story. If you liked that, this one is much better.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Relativity  
**Author**: AudioAesthetic  
**Summary**: Theodore Nott gen. Because the Devil never tells his side of the story.  
**Rating**: T  
**Author's Notes**: I suppose this is what became of my story _In the Facets of Their Scales_. If you liked that, you'll like this. I think it's better, personally.

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Chapter One

The first time Theodore Nott met Draco Malfoy, he was thoroughly unimpressed. Malfoy would probably never forgive him for it.

He wasn't exactly late when he got to the train, but he also wasn't early, which, it turned out, was a mistake. The train was packed full of students who had just been let loose from their cabin-fevered summer vacations. They were letting spells and curses fly across the train, getting loud, raucous games of Exploding Snap started, and one boy even tried to shove a gigantic tarantula under Theodore's face.

"Get _away_ from me!" Theodore pushed passed him, utterly scandalized. He hoped Hogwarts wouldn't prove to be infested with giant arachnids, or boys who kept them for their own sick amusement.

There were a few compartments that were empty or close to empty, and Theodore, remembering his father's pleas that he try and make friends, naturally chose one that was completely barren. He wanted to read his textbooks the rest of the ride there. He would find it excruciatingly amusing when he beat all the Ravenclaws in their exams. He wondered if some of them would cry.

No such luck, however. Just as he cracked open his copy of _Standard Book of Spells, Grade I_, a girl appeared in the doorway of the compartment. She had short, dark hair, and a face like a dog, and her wand was out and at the ready.

"Help me with this trunk, please," she said once she spotted him.

Theodore was rather taken aback. "What? Why?"

"Because it's heavy and I'm going to sit here." The girl blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and stuck a hand on her hip. "I'm Pansy Parkinson, I'm going to be in Slytherin, and I'm also going to sit here. Now help me. ... Please."

Theodore, still unconvinced, looked at her dubiously. She heaved a frustrated sigh. "Help me, or I'll hex you."

That rang true. Together they hoisted her trunk onto the rack and she sat down, looking rather pleased with herself. He eyed her up and down and decided that she would be okay. She was wearing witch's robes that weren't the school uniform and she'd said she was going to be in Slytherin. That probably meant she was a Pureblood. Plus, the name Parkinson sounded rather familiar. Despite the fact that she was distinctly unattractive and rather bossy, Theodore thought her name would sound good on a letter to Father. He would approve.

"I'm going to be in Slytherin, too," he said, to make conversation.

"I know," she replied, "or else you would have told me to sod off. I've been doing it up and down the corridor for the last half hour."

She eyed him scrutinously. "You look like a Nott. You must be Theodore. Would you like to play a game of Snap for frog cards?"

Theodore had never gambled a day in his life, but it seemed the blank look on his face made him rather good at it. Pretty soon, Pansy was down to half the number of cards she'd had originally. She tried to get them back with pleas, threats, and semi-flirtatious eyelash palpitations that just made Theodore laugh. Pansy looked outraged, and then began to laugh too, and Theodore was feeling pretty good about this whole "making friends" thing.

"Can you _believe_!" said a voice from the corridor as the compartment door swung open forcefully. A pinched, blonde boy with a harem of two gorilla-like creatures hanging about his shoulders stalked into the compartment unannounced. "Not shaking my hand! The _nerve_ of him! Does he have any idea who my father is?"

"Er... probably not," said one of the juggernauts - Theodore almost laughed. He'd never seen a mountain with a bowlcut before. "He's Harry Potter. He's been living with Muggles."

The pinched boy gave him a withering look. "I _know_ that. I was being facetious. Don't correct me when I'm being facetious, Crabbe, it's irritating."

Theodore had jumped in surprised at their entrance and was staring with a mix of shock and outrage at the three of them, but Pansy looked up rather blandly. "Don't screech, Draco," she said, almost fondly. "It's unbecoming."

"You would screech too if you had been through what I just have," the boy (Theodore assumed he must be Draco Malfoy) huffed as he through himself in the seat beside Pansy. "My family name, offended! My honor, attacked! My hand, unshaken and scorned! To be in my position, you would screech and bellow and blanche and do all sorts of unbecoming things. Judge not lest ye be judged, Pansy."

"Draco, you judge people constantly," Pansy pointed out.

"That's different," he said with a casual flip of his hand. "I'm faultless. Other people are defective. It's okay to judge defective things."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Would you like to be dealt in?"

Malfoy did a double take upon seeing Theodore across the apartment, as if he could not have been bothered to notice another person before. By way of introduction, Malfoy said, "You are a very grey child."

Theodore did not quite know what to say to that, so he just scowled his most defensive scowl and waited. Theodore was rather proud of his scowl. Malfoy seemed unphased.

"You must be a Nott. My father says you all never leave your mansion. Have you ever thought of the benefits of sunlight? You might get scurvy."

"I think that's a deficiency of Vitamin D," Theodore said before he could stop himself. Malfoy looked as though someone had just announced that hippogriffs were taking over the Ministry.

"A deficiency of what now?" Quickly, he diverted his attention to looking flippant. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter. The derivation of your unhealthy pallour is your own problem. Take it up with Madame Pomfrey, I shall no longer be pestered by it. Deal me in, but I'm playing with candy. My card collection is in the bottom of my trunk and if I try to get it now, I'll drown in new robes and spellbooks and never be seen again on this or any other plane."

He turned quickly to the two boys behind him. "You'll have to find that toad the girl was talking about and step on it later. Right now, we're playing Snap."

The two boys took this without complaint. Both Greg and Vince could hold their own in the game, but Malfoy was absolute rubbish at keeping a poker-face. Pansy laughed contemptuously at every victorious flourish, gasp, or declaration that he would "never play this God-forsaken game again as long as he lived" that gave away his hand. At the end of the train ride, however, it was Theodore who had nearly all of the candy bought on the trolley.

He had assumed, from Pansy's bossy manner, that she would be the leader of their little group, but as it turned out, even Pansy herself joined the first years who gathered around Draco Malfoy, trying to look as though they weren't amused by his impression of the over-sized groundskeeper and the way he scoffed indiscriminately at the Gryffindor batch of first years.

"He's making a fool of himself," said coldly relaxed Blaise Zabini. Theodore and Pansy nodded their agreement, but Theodore couldn't help but snicker as Malfoy marched about the room ordering the "firs' years" to "be men, fergit the boats, an' just swim to the castle."

Draco Malfoy was shameless, embarassing, and vain - but he had a highly caffeinated sort of energy that made you want to watch his every move, just to see what it was, and this blisteringly misguided confidence that made you believe that he deserved all the attention he was getting.

Theodore like Blaise's quiet coolness and Pansy's sassiness better, but being a Slytherin would definitely be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two 

Apparently the school was infested with trolls. Theodore did not appreciate it, but he was kind enough to keep his unappreciation to himself, which was the major difference between him and Malfoy.

"Someone should really inform our wise and noble Headmaster that there are real, live _children_ on the premises, and that having mountain trolls running amuck might not be entirely beneficial to my education, or life. I could have been killed. Do they know they're running a _school_ and not a zoo for highly dangerous animals? Of course, they do let that Groundskeeper hang around, so they probably don't..."

Pansy rolled her eyes, although the other girls, Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass, and Constance Lestrange giggled. Pansy eyed them contemptuously. She and Theodore had the same distaste for giggling - Theodore appreciated that. Pansy never chose Tracey, Daphne, and Constance for company, preferring the peaceful Millicent Bulstrode to either of them. Theodore had to admit they fit together better. He liked Pansy, but she was in no way pretty, and Tracey, Daphne, and Constance would all three grow up to marry terribly rich gentlemen and never work a day in their lives.

"You weren't anywhere near the troll, Draco," Pansy informed him. "You're perfectly fine."

Malfoy looked scandalized. "Fine? _Fine_? I most certainly am not _fine_! I have been psychologically traumitized! I no longer feel safe in my surroundings! I could, at any moment, be attacked and killed! Would you look at the state I'm in? Would you look at the state my _hair_ is in? It's unhealthy!"

Blaise and Theodore exchanged amused looks and went back to the feast that had been brought up for them. Once Malfoy started talking about his hair, there was no getting the conversation back unto saner things.

Classes were pretty simple, and going well, although Theodore was constantly being outshone by that awful Granger girl. Malfoy spent most of his time making faces at the speccy boy who was apparently Harry Potter. Theodore was unmoved. The boy looked like he hadn't eaten properly a day in his life. He must have been the world's most muscular baby, because if Theodore was a Dark Lord, he would laugh in Potter's face now.

He made a pretty good Seeker though, Theodore had to admit. Malfoy, however, refused to admit any such thing, and ranted at long length before the first game about how someone with deficient eyesight would never be able to properly catch a Snitch.

"Not that it matters," Malfoy spat. "They'll probably make an exception and just hand the Snitch to him at the beginning of the game. 'Oh, my word, you're Harry Potter! Well, now, we can't have you actually losing! Here you are! And why don't we just hand over the deed to the castle while we're at it? From now on Hogwarts will be called Harry Potter's School of Blatant Favoritism! Three cheers for nepotism!"

"Nepotism means he'd have to be related to the person giving him special treatment," Theodore informed him. Malfoy glared.

"I don't like you, Nott."

Christmas came. Theodore went home to his father and older brother, Raphael, who asked incessantly about his friends. Raphael teased him about Pansy, and Father pestered him about Blaise, and both of them were rather impressed by his relationship to Lucius Malfoy's son.

"He's got a rat face," Theodore finally said. "Also, he's vain and obnoxious." He wanted to add that he was a friend, not an asset, but didn't quite know how to get that through his father's head.

Raphael looked amused. "Just stick with him, kid. He's going places. Besides, sometimes all you've got are your own."

Theodore thought about this for sometime and came to the conclusion that if all he had was Draco Malfoy, he'd better give him a dictionary, because his misuse of words was irritating.

Potter won the game against Hufflepuff, even though Professor Snape referried. Theodore and Blaise watched together with glee at every foul that was called for no reason, and Theodore began to understand. Snape was theirs, and he was watching out for them the only way he knew how - by being a complete prat to everyone else. Theodore found it highly amusing and comforting that at least there was someone in this school who would stick up for them, even if it meant that nobody else would like him.

Blaise had given Theodore a poker set for Christmas - a game that Theodore had never heard of, but which Blaise assured him he would be good at. He taught the first years how to play, and Theodore was the best of them after all. They played with chips that didn't mean anything because after a while they began to glower at Theodore for taking all their candy. Malfoy glowered at him anyway, because he was a sore loser.

Theodore found Malfoy the night after his detention in the common room as he was looking for a drink of water. He looked whiter than usual and didn't even notice Theodore until he was right next to him. He didn't look up.

"I saw him," Malfoy started. "The Dark Lord. In the forest."

Theodore froze. The Dark Lord was something their parents reminisced about and used to scare them into doing what they're told. He wasn't real or if he was, he was long dead. But there was Malfoy shaking like he'd seen an army of ghosts, and Theodore knew he wasn't lying.

"He was drinking... drinking blood and hovering and... he came right towards me and I ran. They almost left me there - didn't forget bloody Potter and his filthy girlfriend, but they almost left me."

Theodore sat down next to him, and only then did Malfoy look up and see that it was him. He could have been talking to anybody and wouldn't have known, or probably cared. He had never looked so young before. Theodore realized they were all very young, really, and Malfoy was probably the youngest, and it was awful, horrible, unfair, cruel, to leave someone like Malfoy on his own in a forest after seeing something... like that.

"We'll get them," Theodore said, because he didn't quite know how to comfort, except through revenge. "We'll show them. They'll see."

He didn't know who was going to see, or what they were going to see when they saw it, but it seemed to make Malfoy feel better. By the next day, he was back to his arrogantly overconfident self, and the only change was that he let Theodore correct his use of "to infer" instead of "to imply" without comment in Herbology one morning.

"That was odd," said Blaise, completely uninterested. Theodore shrugged.

"He's just pleased because we're going to win the House Cup." Blaise nodded and casually threw a clump of dirt at the back of Michael Corner's head. Corner turned around and glared, and Blaise didn't even catch his eye. Theodore snickered into his dittany plant.

"Think that's funny, do you? You great Slytherin prat."

Theodore rose to his full height, which was actually rather impressive. "Not nearly as much as I think your stupid, fat face is funny."

Corner sputtered a series of _Why I oughta's_ about indignantly and his friends joined him at his shoulders. Theodore wanted to shout something about bad form at the prospects of three against one, but then Blaise was behind him, and Pansy and Millicent, too, and they were all squared for the fight until -

"What seems to be the problem here?" Professor Sprout looked about them. "Don't think I won't take away every last House point I can get my hands on from either of your Houses if there's fighting in my greenhouses!"

Theodore didn't care. They'd made their point. Slytherins took care of their own.

They made their point, too, at the end of the year feast. Theodore glowed with pride at the green and silver decorations and laughed at the older Slytherins, who were doing their best not to look completely trashed, and failing (everyone knew their glasses were filled with Firewhiskey anyway). Pansy hugged him when Dumbledore announced his congratulations, and even Blaise looked excited for once. Millicent smiled demurely, and Malfoy was practically singing with joy.

Theodore remembered the crushed feeling as the rest of the Houses cheered and laughed and danced when Dumbledore took it all away from them. He remembered Pansy's shock and some of the seventh years crying a bit into their Firewhiskey, and even Malfoy didn't have a word to say. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right. But since when had Dumbledore cared what was fair or right for the Slytherins? Theodore hated him, hated all of them.

He tripped Michael Corner on the way out of the Great Hall, and he landed with his nose on the pavement.

"You stupid Slytherin _bastard_!"

"That's me," Theodore hissed, holding his chin high as Goldstein helped his friend up and glared at him. By the end of his first year, Theodore knew which way was up.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This might be the last chapter for a couple of days - I never have time to write except on Saturday mornings. So have fun with it! Thanks for the reviews so far.  
Audio

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Chapter Three

Theodore, Blaise, and Millicent were invited to Pansy's on the second day of summer. She paraded them around her frilly, arched mother and dark, secluded father as if they were precious artifacts. She showed them all the rooms in her mansion, and told Theodore he could take any books he wanted from the library - "since you read so much." She even gave Millicent one of the kittens from her cat's litter, which Millicent cooed over like it was an infant. Pansy was an excellent hostess.

They spent the whole summer there, being bossed about by Pansy in a maternal sort of way, swimming in the pond behind her house and chasing gnomes in the garden. In the last week of holiday, Pansy's mother insisted they invited Daphne Greengrass, who came looking rather upset at the prospect. Pansy fixed that by bossing her just as much as the rest and making her feel like she belonged. They played chess outside and when they were sick of losing to Blaise, Daphne made obstacle courses for them to go through on their brooms. She was an adept flier, and soon she and Theodore were having long involved conversations about Quidditch.

"I'm a Chaser, myself," she told him, "so I won't try out next year. But the year after there'll be two open spots, and I'll get one of them."

Theodore didn't want to tell her that their hadn't been a girl on the Slytherin team for nearly forty years, because she looked very eager, but he thought it very hard at her, just in case the vibes lowered her confidence a little. He didn't want her to be disappointed.

"You know, I was spending the summer at Connie's house with her and Tracey," she said, "but my mother insisted I come here. She said she didn't want her daughter spending the entire summer with the Lestrange family. I thought she _liked_ Connie."

Daphne was terrible at History of Magic, so she probably didn't know that two of Constance's uncles and her aunt were in Azkaban prison, and that her mother simply didn't like that Constance's family had gotten caught.

"Don't worry too much about it," Millicent said, petting Artemis serenely on the porch swing. Millicent was the sort of person who thought everyone would get along eventually. "Everything's going to be okay."

And it _was_ okay, for a little while. When they got back, Malfoy trained like an idiot to get the Seeker spot, and he secretly told Pansy who secretly told Theodore that his father had promised new brooms to the team if he made it. Theodore, thinking of his own father, wondered what it would be like to need that kind of acceptance. Malfoy was terribly open about his father.

Pansy grinned like a fool when he made the team and the other second years were proud for him. Blaise and Theodore laughed their arses off at the look on Harry Potter's face when he saw the new brooms. They laughed at Lockhart's fruitless attempts at teaching and the way Tracey, Daphne, and Constance fell over themselves to get his attention. They laughed when Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein fainted because their earmuffs weren't on tight enough for the mandrake lesson in Herbology. Actually, they spent most of their time laughing at other people, and each other, until Mrs. Norris was attacked.

Malfoy told them they would all be safe, and he said it with such confidence that Theodore believed him. It didn't stop them from huddling in little groups in fear, and Constance from waking up screaming about monsters and Petrification and the cold, cold dark. But it wasn't the monsters that were the worst part - it was the rest of the school.

"Has anyone else noticed that none of the Slytherins are getting attacked?" said one of the garrish Weasley twins in the hallway one day. Pansy whirled on them instantly.

"Yes, but we're not attacking anyone either," she said, gripping her wand with white knuckles.

The Weasleys laughed in her face. "You expect us to believe that? All Slytherin is, is a Death Eater training camp."

Millicent cracked her knuckles threateningly, which was the first semi-violent thing Theodore had ever seen her do, and the Weasley's laughed again but looked slightly more afraid.

"Your stupid gorilla can't scare us," said the other Weasley. Pansy's fist was in his crotch before he knew what was happening.

"You stupid Slytherin _bitch_!" the first yelled and jumped on her. Theodore launched himself into the ensuing fray before he knew what was happening, Raphael's words ringing in his ear. _Sometimes all you have are your own_. Theodore was hitting and kicking and ducking as best he could while rolling around on the ground.

"What precisely is going on here?" Professor Snape came striding into their midst, outraged. "I have never seen such a display of behavior."

Theodore looked up to find that it was only he and the Weasley who were fighting. Pansy was watching with vested interest and Millicent and Blaise were keeping the other one back.

"They called Millicent a gorilla, Professor!" Pansy yelled instantly.

"She _hit_ me, sir!" the fallen Weasley said.

"And you pounced on her?" Snape sneered. "Fighting a lady, Weasley. Terribly ungentleman-like. Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"What about Nott?" cried the other twin. "He was fighting too!"

"He was obviously defending Miss Parkinson's honor," said Snape flippantly. Theodore felt a surge of what might have been affection for the man as the Weasleys' jaws dropped in outrage and disgust. "Don't let me see this happen again or you'll cleaning the trophy room so long your grandchildren will be joining you."

Back in the boy's dormitory, Pansy helped him apply Healing ointment on his various wounds because Madame Pomfrey fussed too much, and would insist on writing his father. Blaise hung about the edge of the bed looking wildly amused. "You're crazy, Theo," he said with a slight chuckle. "Those Weasleys are gigantic."

"I don't care," Theodore said, shaking. Blaise smirked and Theodore stuck his tongue out at him. They were silent for a few more moments, and it grew awkward rather quickly.

"Why do they hate us so much?" Pansy wondered. "We aren't hurting _anybody_. We're just kids."

Blaise shrugged. "It doesn't matter what they think. We're going to come out on top anyway."

"I hope the monster gets them all," Pansy spat. "I hope it gets all of them."

Theodore held her hand then because she was his friend and she was scared and hurt and angry. He couldn't remember ever having touched someone out of affection, but Pansy seemed to appreciate it.

After that day, Malfoy ordered all of them to never leave the common room unaccompanied. Theodore didn't argue, and neither did Pansy, who usually wouldn't even let Malfoy tell her what to do. "We'll be _fine._" Malfoy said it like it was an order. "We just have to keep our heads about us and we'll be okay."

Vince woke up screaming one night, and all the girls rushed into the boy's dorm room. "I was sure someone had been killed," said Daphne with tears in her eyes. Tracey held her hand and sobbed openly and Constance seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.

"We'll be fine," Draco kept saying. "Everything's going to be fine. Don't be afraid."

What he meant was, _You are not allowed to be afraid_, and Theodore found himself obeying without even thinking. They made a pile of blankets on the floor and huddled together, pretending to be strong and almost forgetting that nothing was really normal anymore.

They were saved, of course, by Harry Potter, and they lost the House Cup again, and Draco ranted and raved. Theodore was just happy that they were safe and sound, happy that they could go home and write each other and be okay.

"I know my father's been fired," Draco said on the train, "and it might not be advantageous for any of you to be seen with me anymore."

"Shut up, Draco," Pansy snapped. "Don't be stupid."

The rest of them nodded their agreement. Draco looked pleased. "I should have known I was irresistable to you all," he said. "I'm so clever. What would you do without me?"

Theodore rolled his eyes along with Blaise, but secretly wondered what they really would have done if he hadn't been there to tell them they were okay.

_Sometimes all you have are your own._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four 

Summer proved boring and fruitless, except that there was a mass murderer on the loose. That was interesting, at least. Theodore had always had a soft spot for mass murderers.

However, when they got back to school, dementors were everywhere, and Theodore hardly approved of allowing children to be subjected to walking nightmares who wanted desperately to kiss them (consequently, Theodore also did not approve of pedophiles). The dementors reminded Theodore of his mother, whom he hadn't thought about in years and had never even really known, and made his knees feel weak. Pansy grew pale and Blaise tensed up and Draco fell to pieces but made up for it by making fun of Potter at every turn. He did it mostly to make Pansy feel better, because she thought she was being weak.

"Woman, I will never hear another word like that out of you," Draco demanded. "You're damaging my family name. Malfoys do not socialize with weaklings. You don't see me dragging around Weasleys and Mudbloods instead of Crabbe and Goyle, now do you?"

Vince nodded eagerlyas if to say, _He really doesn't_, and Gregory grunted a little. Pansy smiled and laughed as Draco stole Adrian Pucey's glasses and fainted over and over again into their laps.

Theodore signed up for Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and thenCare of Magical Creatures, because Blaise made him. The Hagrid creature proved dangerous, just as Draco had been spouting all these years. On their very first day, he showed them gigantic eagles with horses attached and madethem touch one. Blaise took to them rather quickly, after Potter showed them how, and was patting a large female named Razorwing when they heard across the paddock -

"I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you? Are you, you great ugly brute?"

_Oh no,_ Theodore thought as the hippogriff slashed at Draco with a razored claw. _No, no, he didn't mean it! That's just the way he talks! Dammit, Malfoy!_

"I'm dying! I'm dying! Look at me, it's killed me!"

Hagrid lumbered off to the Hospital Wing with Draco in his arms. Theodore looked around him at the other Slytherins. He had never seen Blaise look so shocked, or Pansy so close to tears.

"I'm going to see how he is!" she shouted louder than was necessary, and rushed off after them. Crabbe and Goyle packed up and did the same.

Theodore, Blaise, and Daphne went to the Hospital Wing as soon as classes were over. Snape was standing at the foot of Draco's bed, looking murderous. Pansy was touching Draco shoulder, as if she was afraid to do anything else.

"The Headmaster will hear from me about this," Snape hissed. "I will not have that oversized infant endangering my students. I suggest you write your father immediately. He'll want to do something about this."

Snape brushed passed them with a brisk nod, and Theodore felt safe.

"Ah! My adoring fans!" Draco called to them, beckoning them forward with a regal wave of his goodarm. "Come to fluff my pillow? Wallow in my glory? Feed me grapes?"

"No, they have come to say their hellos and leave," Madame Pomfrey said, bustling in with a bottle of _Pain-Away: Magical Herbs for the Wimpy, Overdramatic Soul, Who Can't Take What's Coming to Him._

... Perhaps Theodore was paraphrasing.

Draco scowled at Madame Pomfrey. "How do you expect me to recover if you don't allow me my doting entourage? Well... I suppose you could do it." In answer, Madame Pomfrey practically shoved one of the pills between his lips. Draco gagged and eyed her suspiciously. "You are the single _worst_ doter I have ever had the misfortune of meeting."

Madame Pomfrey looked unamused. "You have five minutes," she said to Theodore, and promptly left the room.

"You are an idiot, Malfoy," Pansy said, summing up rather nicely what they all were thinking. Draco was unabashed, and in fact looked rather bored. She'd been up there a while, and had probably informed him of that fact many times already.

"How was I to know that awful creature was so sensitive?" he wondered.

"You're hair's a little messed up," said Theodore experimentally. "You might have split ends."

Draco squawked. "Split ends?! Oh, the anguish that is my life! I could _die_."

They spent the remainder of the five minutes trying to convince Draco that he didn't have split ends and that Theodore was just kidding. He seemed little better by the time they left, but he had called Theodore an "uncouth rogue" more times than he could count. That seemed to cheer him up as only verbal abuse could.

"If we bring him a hog-tied Harry Potter," Blaise suggested, "and let him shout for a while, he should be good as new in no time."

Theodore repressed the urge to grin. There were Hufflepuffs about, and if one of them saw him smiling, he would never live it down.

The weather grew rainy and cold as the days went on. Constance's birthday was used as an excuse for the older students to sneak to the kitchens and bring up food and Firewhiskey. Second and first years were bullied into bed by the prefects, but for the first time, Theodore and his friends were invited to stay and drink.

Well, they weren't _invited_, per ce. Firewhiskey was more or less forced upon them by the older Quidditch boys who thought that it was "high time the midgets learned to hold their booze."

It made Blaise hiccup and Vince lethargic, and Theodore was sure he was slurring his words. But Draco took to it like a fish to water, and he flirted and danced with pretty older girls and Constance. His body moved in serpentine patterns and he slithered through the entwining Slytherins, laughing and enjoying himself - finally around people who were making bigger fools of themselves than he.

Pansy scowled and cradled her drink in her hands, watching Draco's every move. When Constance, slightly tipsy, fell into Draco's lap and kiss his cheek, Pansy stood.

"Come on, Nott," she said loudly, pulling him out of his chair. "You're going to dance with me."

Theodore sputtered his protests, but the liquor was making him less than elegant (granted, she probably would have forced him to dance even if he had extemporaneously spouted a Shakespearian sonnet at her). Theodore was more or less dragged to the edge of the throng.

Theodore moved awkwardly, and Pansy did, too, but it was a familiar sort of awkwardness that made Theodore reach out for her. She ground her hips into his, like the older Slytherins were doing, but with much less practiced ease. Still, her forcefulness, her determination, the bossiness in her sway, it was all so blissfully, wonderfully Pansy that Theodore didn't care what it looked like.

Pansy was his friend, and had been since that first day when she practically demanded it of him. Nothing could change her, or cage her. She didn't even let the music control her movements.

Theodore didn't remember doing it, but at one moment his lips were keeping quietly to themselves, minding their own business, perhaps doing a crossword or knitting, and the next they were crossing over into Pansy's territory and violating every rule of personal space that Theodore could remember. Theodore realized as it was happening that he had no idea how to kiss someone, and would prefer to save it until he his motor skills were at his complete disposal, but Pansy didn't seem to mind. She let him kiss her, perhaps because he had let her stay in the compartment, perhaps because he'd held her hand last year, or perhaps because he was Theodore, and she felt the same familiar comfort with him as he felt for her.

Either way, there they were, grinding hips and kissing, and he could hear a few older boys make whooping noises and cat-call congratulations to him, but he didn't stop until it became difficult to breathe.

They blinked at each other, and Theodore had the horribly humiliating thought that Pansy had only let him do that because she was drunk. She wasn't smiling or moving anymore, and Theodore felt as though he was going to be sick.

Finally, she gave a swift glance at the other third years and Theodore followed her gaze. Draco was watching them.

"Oh, I see," said Theodore. It all made sense now. "You fancy Draco."

Pansy stuttered incoherent protests, but Theodore just grinned. "It's okay, Pansy. I understand. I don't mind."

And he didn't, either. It's not as if he'd had a crush on Pansy. In fact, her liking Draco made her not wanting Theodore okay. He wasn't sure he could have taken it if it was just about him.

Besides, Pansy was a Slytherin. Theodore wanted her to be happy.

Pansy blushed. "Thanks, Theo," she said, and kissed his cheek. "I think I'm going to go to bed now."

She stumbled only once as she walked away, clutching her head. Theodore followed her with his gaze, and then sat down in the circle of third years.

He leaned over to Draco. "If you hurt her, I'll kill you," he said. He half expected Draco to looked surprised or to argue, but Draco just looked thoughtfully at him. He took a sip from the bottle he was holding.

"I'll try to avoid it, then," he replied, and Theodore nodded. That was really all he could ask for.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was the last Hogsmeade weekend when Blaise casually mentioned that his mother was coming to visit, and that she would like to meet Theodore.

"And what did you say to that?" Theodore wanted to know.

"I told her you'd be delighted, naturally," said Blaise, too casually, slinging his legs over the side of an armchair. He began to make eyes at Tracey Davis, because it made her giggle. Theodore was disgusted.

"Why would you say a horrendously silly thing like that?" he demanded, trying to block Blaise's view of all the pretty females in the room with his head. It proved impossible - Blaise wasn't at all interested in relationships yet, but he did find the fact that girls were interested in him to be hilariously entertaining.

"Because," Blaise arched his eyebrows at Tracey, "although it pains me to admit it, you're my best friend and I might actually need your help."

"You talk like she's a dragon." Theodore habitually began shuffling the deck of playing cards he almost always had in his hands.

Blaise snorted. "She is. Have you ever listened to a word I've said? You'd think I'd been dragging a brick wall to class for three years, rather than an actual, real live boy."

Theodore was too polite to point out that he didn't have to be forced to go to class, unlike _someone _he knew who couldn't get his own arse out of bed more often than not. He did, however, point out that it wasn't a very good persuasion, and reminded Blaise never to go into sales. He was polite, but he was also honest.

"But you'll go?" Blaise wondered.

"Of course I'll go, you imbecile," Theodore answered, dealing out the cards. "But you owe me, big."

It was a sunny day, and they met Blaise's outrageously beautiful mother in the outside tables of an incredibly dubious cafe called Madame Puddifoot's, that looked too feminine to be trusted. Pansy had pouted a bit when they informed her that they wouldn't be able to accompany her to Honeydukes, until Draco had offered his arm. She cheered up a bit.

Mrs. Zabini's (or whatever her last name was this week) charm was legendary, and Theodore found himself blushing as she offered her hand. "You must be Theodore," she said warmly, "I've heard so much about you. I know your father, of course, but he's failed to mention how handsomely you were growing up."

"Please, Mother, he's thirteen," Blaise said, looking rather bored. He said to Theodore, not bothering to lower his voice, "She must like you. Normally she waits for the waiter."

For a moment, Mrs. Zabini looked like she would hex her son to China, but it lasted only a split second before it was replaced by a smile in Theodore's direction. Theodore thought he might have imagined it. "Blaise does love to tease me. Now, dear, tell me about school."

Theodore ticked off the classes they were taking on his fingers, but she shushed him. "No, no, dear, all that's well and good, but I want to hear what else is going on. Tell me all the juicy gossip. A woman does feel so out of touch with a son as elusive as Blaise-y."

As the server (a female, thank Merlin) came to take Mrs. Zabini's order, Theodore mouthed _Blaise-y?_ Blaise scowled.

"Well, er," Theodore began after the waitress had left, "I'm not quite sure - "

"Tell me, love." Mrs. Zabini leaned in secretly, and Theodore caught an unashamed glimpse of dark, soft-looking skin close to the V of her robes. He blushed and swallowed. "Does my son have any little girlfriends running around?"

"Hardly, Mother." Blaise eyed his fingernails non-chalantly. "I'm thinking of never having any, actually."

Mrs. Zabini blinked hard. Theodore stared. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean, I think I prefer gentlemen, if you must know."

Theodore felt rather trapped and coerced. He did his best to look unsurprised, but really, he could have been _warned_.

Mrs. Zabini began to sputter. "But... I don't... Why?"

"The psychiatrists will probably blame your overtly promiscuous and feminine overtones on my young and impressionable psyche, I'm sure," said Blaise. Theodore didn't think this was the time to ask what a psychiatrist was, or a psyche, and why Blaise's was impressionable. It was one of those family moments he'd heard so much about, and had never really wanted to experience.

He was going to _murder_ Blaise.

"Really, dear, don't you think you're a bit young to be making this decision? You've only just turned fourteen." Mrs. Zabini looked as though she'd just falling off a cliff. If Theodore hadn't been so uncomfortable, he would have found it funny.

"It isn't a _decision_," Blaise informed her. Wearily, he stood. "Either way, it's already been made, so I'll just be off now. I have leather to buy and mortal sins to commit. Ta ta."

As Theodore followed him down the street, he wondered how he could have possibly missed it. _Ta ta?_ There was practically a neon sign above his head proclaiming the news. Theodore actually felt rather stupid. He didn't say anything until they reached the bottom of the hill to the Shreiking Shack and then rounded on Blaise, hitting him upside the head.

"There is such a thing as tact, Zabini," he said. To his surprise, and slight horror, Blaise looked poised for another hit. He could have sworn he maybe saw tears in his eyes. "What on earth are you doing?"

"This is the part where you kick my arse and abandon me, right? I've read the novels." He was trying to sound flippant, and it wasn't working. Was Blaise actually scared?

"What are you talking about?" Theodore demanded. "Of course I'm not abandoning you, what a stupid thing to say. I just meant that if you're going to come out to your mother in front of your best friend, you might want to warn said best friend beforehand. Bloody moron."

Blaise blinked at him. "You really don't care?"

"No, stupid. Why should I care?" Blaise was Slytherin, and that made him Theodore's, no matter what personality quirk came up. "Millicent could admit to being a man (which, by the way, I wouldn't be at all surprised about) and it wouldn't matter."

Blaise looked confused, but relieved, and straightened himself. They went together to tell Pansy, who looked at them like they were handing her yesterday's news. Draco seemed to know, also.

"You dress too well," he said, off-handedly. "It's easy to spot."

"Says the boy with nothing but designer robes and a boudoir that tells him if the color pallette doesn't match," Pansy said, fondly. She was holding his arm.

"That's different, of course," Draco replied, "I'm pretty. I deserve to wear the prettiest clothes available to me. Blaise is not nearly as pretty as I am, and therefore, should be wearing plain black robes and work boots. Like Theodore."

Theodore thought about being offended, but decided against it. Being offended never got you anywhere with Draco Malfoy. Besides, he thought his boots were rather nice.

They sat in the Three Broomsticks and sipped butterbeer. Crabbe and Goyle listened patiently as Draco described how wonderful he was at Arithmancy (his favorite subject) and Pansy rolled her eyes at him, trying not to look too pleased with herself. Millicent had snuck her cat along and was petting her and crooning pleasantly at her. Blaise openly made eyes at the Digory boy, and Theodore wondered when they had all become friends. Perhaps he was asleep for it.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** This one's rather short, but I promise the next one will be longer. I'm not particularly proud of this one at all, but next one will be better. Tell me what you think.

* * *

Chapter 6

Theodore met Pansy and Blaise after the World Cup match at Pansy's tent. Daphne, Constance, and Tracey soon stumbled upon them, drunk, and willing to share the Firewhiskey smuggled from Daphne's parents. They drank and played poker and Daphne ranted and raved about the match from Theodore's lap. Theodore wondered if a girl had to be plastered to pay him any attention.

Then the fires started, and Daphne was grabbing at Theodore's arm and Pansy's soon-to-be first year sister was shreiking. Theodore lost sight of Pansy and Blaise, and held tight to Pearl and Daphne's hands because he wasn't going to lose them, too, and Pansy would kill him if anything happened to her sister.

He shouted their names and Daphne cried as they ran towards the woods. Together, they hid deep in the branches and shivered together from fear more than cold, and Daphne was crying and crying, until she fell asleep leaning against Theodore.

"I'm not afraid," Pearl informed him, and her voice quivered as much as her body was. What Theodore knew she meant was that she was not allowed to be afraid, just like none of them were. They gazed up at the Dark Mark as people passed them, asking after relatives and friends, and more often than not, Theodore had to tell them he hadn't seen them. He patted Daphne's hair and wiped the tears from her eyes, because she wouldn't want to be found afraid.

In his heart, Theodore knew that his father was out there, drunk and shouting and scaring Daphne. He didn't quite know what to think about that.

"Trust Theodore Nott to be the _hardest_ person on earth to find," Draco said when he, Vince, and Gregory stumbled upon the three of them after a while. He kicked Daphne's foot until she woke up, and looked pleased when she told him to bite her.

"What does that mean?" Theodore picked himself up, and tried not to look over Draco's head at the Dark Mark in the sky.

"Your hair is the color of death," Draco announced. "You could bury yourself up to your forehead and no one would think you were anything but a grey, old rock. If you closed your eyes, you'd blend in completely with the night."

"Don't be so dramatic,"Theodore said. "Besides, your hair looks like it's been bleached."

Draco sputtered indignantly. "Bleached?! I'm not entirely sure what that is, but I would never put it in my hair. I've heard it makes it _fall out_."

Daphne sniggered, and Draco eyed her contemptuously. "Some things, Greengrass, are not, in fact, funny. Shame on you. Shame."

They made their way to where Draco had left Pansy and the others. Theodore, lost in thought, fell back, and thought about his father, wearing a mask and laughing while Daphne cried.

"Your father," Draco said, pulling him out of his reverie, "he was out there, too."

"Yes," said Theodore, even though it wasn't a question.

"Mine was, too." He rose to his full height, which really wasn't much. "I hope they gave Potter's Mudblood a good scare."

Theodore eyed the other boy thoughtfully, and didn't believe him. Draco had found them, had been looking for them, whether he wanted to admit it or not, and that meant he was worried. As much as he wanted to act proud, he was just as sick about it as Theodore was.

It also meant that Draco was theirs more than he was his father's. Theodore knew where his loyalties lay.

School started, and so did the tournament. Theodore wore a "Support Cedric Diggory" badge, because Draco had bullied all of them into, even though he didn't care one way or another. Durmstrang girls sat around him at lunch, and asked him questions about himself, and giggled when he looked at them.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and decided that he wasn't handsome, not like Blaise, or even attractive, like Malfoy, but a couple of the Durmstrang girls hinted at him to ask them to the ball. He wrote Raphael, confused, mostly because a letter couldn't laugh at him, while Blaise could, and Raphael replied, _You probably have that mysterious thing goin' on. Don't forget the Contraceptive Charm, stud._

"Gross." Raphael was always saying things like that.

"Who do you think you'll ask?" Pansy wondered, as a side-note to bragging to him that Draco had offered to take her. Theodore shrugged. "Oh, don't do that. You have to ask someone. I won't allow you to be passive on this, Theo, you're going to go, and you're going to have fun, and you might snog someone, and you're going to _like_ it."

She held dress robes her mother bought her up to the mirror and looked disgusted. "You could always ask Millicent."

"Please don't say those things to me right now," said Theodore, who did have _some_ standards, really.

"Well, what about Daphne, then?" Pansy suggested. "I think she might fancy you."

Theodore rolled his eyes, but Pansy persisted. "No, no, really! She gets very jealous of those Durmstrang girls fawning over you."

"So does Draco," Theodore pointed out.

"That's different. He thinks the Durmstrang girls should be fawning over _him_ instead."

She turned around and put her hand on her hips and arched her eyebrows in a very Pansy-ish way. "Ask her. She turned down three other boys, and one of them was Samiel Turpin, the handsome one from Ravenclaw. I think it's because she likes you, and you have to admit she's pretty, so just... go... shag or something already."

Pansy-logic astounded him. It was about the same as girl-logic, but much bossier.

She marched him down to the common room immediately, not giving him a chance to catch his breath. She sat him down in the armchair next to where Daphne, Tracey, and Constance were reading, and said, "Do it" quite obviously before marching off to Draco's side to watch.

"Do what?" Constance wondered, always the slow one. Tracey was giggling profusely. Daphne just flipped through her book non-chalantly.

Theodore couldn't say anything. His palms were sweating. This was horrible. He was never going to talk to Pansy again. He was going to feed her to a hippogriff. He was going to petrify her and dump her in the lake to be killed by merpeople. He was going to eat all of her chocolate frogs and _not_ let her have the cards. Theodore meant business.

"Tracey, Constance, can you leave us alone for a moment?" Daphne said, looking completely self-composed. Insight dawning on Constance's face and giggles hiding in Tracey's, they left, whispering excitedly to each other.

For a long, silent, awkward moment, they just sat there staring at each other. Theodore opened and closed his mouth three or four times in a way reminiscent of a codfish, and Daphen looked highly amused.

"Theodore," she said, "I don't want to go to the Ball with you."

Well, that was a relief at least. He didn't have to ask her.

"Actually, I don't want to go to the Ball with anyone," she continued. Theodore wasn't sure it needed an explanation, or an excuse, but Daphne was never one to stifle her own speech. "I don't like dancing or dressing up, and I'd much rather be doing something else. Just... don't tell Trace and Connie, okay? They'll give me a hard time about it and make me go."

"That seems fair," he said, and rose to go.

Suddenly, she blushed, and looked through her eyelashes at him. "But... I don't want you to go with some other girl."

Theodore blinked at her. "I'm sorry?"

"I don't think I could take it."

Theodore flopped into the chair again, more confused by Daphne than any Arithmancy problem. Daphne continued quickly. "Maybe we could do something that night. Something other than the dance. Do you think?"

"I..." Theodore thought about it a moment. Pansy wanted him to go to the dance, and he'd always thought it was a given that he would. Everyone wanted to. He'd never wondered if perhaps he didn't want to.

He imagined himself in dress robes and it put his decision over the edge. "Sounds great," he said.

Daphne grinned at him, and Theodore noticed, not really for the first time, that she was definitely prettier when she smiled than when she was trying to be coy. Tracey and Constance were on their way back to the chairs, so Theodore took this moment to flee with his life. Girls by themselves, he could handle, but in a group...

Well, he was cynical, maladjusted, antisocial, and let's face it, weird, but he wasn't suicidal.


End file.
